Today I took a walk. The sunshine gently kissed my cheeks, and the warm breeze was just right. I strolled by the campus duck sanctuary and marveled as the feathered creatures nestled sweetly in the lush, recently trimmed grass. I love the smell of April: the air, so dewy and fresh; the smell of new beginnings. The way the 4 o'clock afternoon enveloped me was the way I had been urning to feel for a long while. I was happy; I clenched on tight to this feeling, savoring every last sensation...if only it would last past sunset.
I arrived at my car, shutting the door mechanically, startling me out of thought. Why does romance have to be limited to the love between a man and a woman (man/man, woman/woman)? The feelings I had experienced during my walk made me wonder if romance is indeed exclusive, or if it can be stretched beyond that.
Wikipedia defines romance (love) as the pleasurable feeling of excitment and mystery associated with love. Can one not be in love with, and endulge in the pleasurable feelings and mysteries of the world around? I wish I could end this blog with a deep, renoun answer, but the truth is, I have a feeling this answer won't come to me until I sit still in a rocking chair, rumpled and grey. Then, will I bask in the zen that has so long been awaited.
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